There once was a duck whose name was Chuck,
Who was so smart he knew how to cluck,
He lived hilly in Waikoikoi,
With his old mate Mr Decoy,
But he had forgot ducks would be struck.

It was the time of year the guns we’re out,
The hunters were yelling “the ducks are about”,
The guns were set to aim,
BANG the ducks had no brain,
Now for some well earned supper good old, trout.

A Splish and a splosh could be heard outside,
Quickly pick up your guns a hunter cried
The food was completely dropped,
The ducks were going to be popped,
Now 187 had died.

It was getting dark foggy and late,
They were running low on bait,
A decision was weighed
What about the jerky we made,
The hunt is still on to this date.

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